


Cheat Sheet

by wrenchwench



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Short & Sweet, Time Travel, two martins? TWO JONS? what crimes will they commit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenchwench/pseuds/wrenchwench
Summary: Jon's not stupid. He knows what jealousy is.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 203





	Cheat Sheet

**Author's Note:**

> hey, you've read those fics where s5 jmart go back in time to s1? yeah just imagine i did all the setup for that and then this scene came. imagine this fic is longer, please. thanks
> 
> also, i'm not calling them old jon and young jon so s5-jon is sims and s1-jon is jon, same deal with martin and blackwood. 
> 
> this was written very quickly and very much for funsies so it's not quite as picked-over as some of my other fics, if you spot a problem please do let me know!

Jon keeps seeing Sims with Martin. _His_ Martin, that is, not Blackwood. They're not doing anything weird, of course, but Sims is  _ tactile _ in a way that Jon just isn't - in a way that Jon wishes he  _ was _ . He wants to be able to reach out and clap Tim on the shoulder, to lean in to Sasha to look at her book, to tuck Martin's unruly curls behind his ear… okay, maybe that last one is a  _ little _ weird. That's intimate, right? Jon's pretty sure it is. But the older Martin, Blackwood, doesn't seem fussed by it at all, and even goes so far as to smile when he sees Sims touching his counterpart.

Jon doesn't know why his chest keeps getting tight when he sees them together.

....that's a lie. Jon's not stupid. he knows what jealousy is. He knows what ENVY is. He wants to be able to do the things that Sims does. On Monday, Sims tucks Martin's hair behind his ear, and Jon feels his face heat, and stops talking. On Tuesday, Jon sees them laughing together, and Martin leans his head against Sims' shoulder, just for a moment, and Jon leans too hard on his pencil and breaks the lead. On Wednesday Jon steps into the breakroom and finds them pressed thigh-to-thigh on the couch, Sims' arm tossed casually over Martin's shoulders, their faces so close together as they watch a video on Martin's phone-

He turns around and walks out. Behind him, he hears Martin's voice, indistinct, and then Sims speaking. He doesn't go back.

The next week, Martin corners him in his office.

"You've been avoiding me," he says, and Jon is somehow proud of him? Because he'd never have said something like that to him before the other Martin had appeared and apparently taught him the value of actually sticking up to Jon, which Georgie would agree is a very important life skill. 

“I haven’t,” says Jon, lying through his teeth. “I’ve just been busy.”

“We’ve all been busy,” says Martin, stepping closer, stopping Jon from going for the door. “You keep leaving the room when you see I'm there.”

“Not just you,” says Jon, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. There’s silence, for a moment, and Jon can feel himself flushing again. He hopes Martin can’t tell. His office isn’t well lit and his brown skin should give him some protection, right?

“Are you angry at Sims?” says Martin, who is startlingly observant at times. “He’s been spending a lot of time with me, I suppose.”

“Yes, he has,” says Jon, trying not to sound resentful and failing miserably. “I just…”

“Yes?” says Martin, stepping a little closer as Jon’s voice gets softer.

“He touches you,” says Jon. Martin goes very pink.

“He does,” he says primly. “I don’t mind.”

“I mind,” says Jon, having completely lost any ability to censor himself.

Martin doesn’t say anything, but he wets his lips. Jon follows the line of his tongue. Swallows.

“I mind,” he says again. “He keeps getting closer.”

“Closer to what?” says Martin. Jon can feel the wood of the tall desk pressing against his lower back. His heart is hammering in his chest. Martin’s eyes are pupil-dark, and focused on him.

“To,” says Jon, and then decides, fuck it. Fuck all of this. They know where they’re going to end up. It’s inevitable, he couldn’t stop it if he tried, and he really  _ really _ doesn’t want to. “This,” he finishes, and reaches up, pulling Martin down, meeting no resistance.

His mouth is warm. He tastes of tea. Jon lets his hands curl into Martin’s hair, as silky-soft as he'd always suspected. He feels Martin’s hands come to rest on his waist, then slide lower, over his arse and down to his thighs, and then suddenly he’s being lifted up, onto the desk, Martin  _ picked him up _ and  _ put him on the desk, _ holy SHIT-

Jon stops thinking for a while. He’s got more important things to do.

Later, when they’ve emerged from Jon’s office to find an empty archives and a note from Blackwood saying the team went out for lunch ( _ but there’s sandwiches in the fridge for you two! _ ), Jon blushingly tells Martin that the whole being picked up thing might do it for him, just a little.

“He did say you might like that,” says Martin. “He’s been giving me tips for when you finally decided to do something.”

Jon puts down the sandwich.

“Are you saying,” he says, incredulously, “that you’ve been getting  _ tips _ on how to  _ make out with me _ this _ whole time- _ ”

“Not the whole time! Sometimes we just watched cat videos,” says Martin, who looks  _ so  _ smug. God, he’s pretty.

“You’re not angry, are you?” continues Martin. “He said you wouldn’t be, but I was still worried.”

“I’m angry,” says Jon, and before Martin can react, he keeps going- “I can’t believe you had insider info and I didn’t. This has got to be rectified. If you found out I like being picked up from MY counterpart, what could I find out about you from yours?”

Martin’s eyes widen and he ducks his head, reddening. A lock of hair falls in front of his face. 

Jon reaches across, and tucks it behind his ear.


End file.
